


By the Light of the Moon (The Voyeuristic Remix)

by voleuse



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-25
Updated: 2004-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley goes through the motions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Light of the Moon (The Voyeuristic Remix)

**Author's Note:**

> A remix of [**By the Light of the Moon**](http://www.geekgirlz-r.us/wordpress/archives/109) by D.M. Evans.
> 
> Set after "Billy," including reflection on disturbing themes/implications made in the episode.

Moonlight eases through the curtains in the bedroom, trailing across the carpet, and caressing the man lying, awake, in bed. He rolls away from the light then, uncomfortable, rolls back. Groans, and with a curse, swings his legs out of bed. His feet hit the floor with a quiet thunk, and he swiftly dons a pair of eyeglasses. Then he's up and away, into the living room.

He pads back and forth, from bedroom to couch, from couch to chair, from chair to wall, circling the furniture like prey. He slows when he passes by the mirror, and then halts when he comes to it again.

He gazes into the mirror, as if waiting for an answer. His face is lean, haggard. Bruises pool beneath his skin, and his eyes are red.

_Her face is so delicate. Pretty. He slaps her and feels a surge of pleasure at the connection. Likes it so much that he shoves her against the wall, then down. Watches her hit the stairs and run. She thinks she can escape._

He takes off his glasses and his eyes unfocus. He turns away from the mirror and puts them on again.

He paces again, mirror to chair, chair to couch, and back again. Restless, or rather, aimless.

_The axe feels heavy in his hands. He walks from door to door to door and tries to catch her scent in the air. He'll find her soon, and then he'll show her. He's growing tired of her little games, the way she promises him her body with every twist, every step, and then takes it away._

_The door splinters under his feet, and he thrills at it. She's inside._

He stops. Runs his hands through his dark hair, leaves it disheveled. Turns and steps into the kitchen.

There's a teakettle sitting on the stove. He picks it up, listens to the water swish inside, then pours it into the sink. He fills the kettle again, and sets it back on the stove. Turns the stove on, then opens another cabinet. Stares at a row of mugs for a full minute before choosing the second one from the right.

He carefully places that mug on the table, then goes to a different cabinet and grabs a glass jar, full of tea leaves, dark and curled.

_A wisp of her hair curls out from under the bed, a stray lock that tells him a story, and he knows that she's huddled under the mattress, praying that he'll walk away, biting back a whimper. The knowledge that she's powerless, and completely his._

He sets the tea on the counter, rummages through a drawer until he emerges with a tea strainer. The metal glints under the moonlight slipping through the kitchen window.

_He tosses the bed over, sees her lying there. Her skin looks so soft, so tender in the moonlight. He can't decide what to do with her first. Hurting her was so sweet, feeling the sting after he hit her. Make her cry, make her bleed._

_Or he could just take her, in the dark, the way he knows she wants it. Pin her down on the dusty floor, force his way between her thighs. Listen to her say no, when she really means yes._

_Maybe he'll do both._

He carries the tea leaves and the strainer to the table, sets them next to the mug, and sits. Prepares the tea, and waits patiently for the water to boil.

The kettle starts to shriek, but he doesn't move. He just sits, and stares out the window. The moonlight outlines his face, and for some reason, he looks afraid.


End file.
